He said he
noticed the dog come in, and wag his tail around the twine, but he
supposed the dog was a friend of the family, and did not disturb him.
"Everybody lays everything that is done to me," said the boy, as he put
his handkerchief to his nose, "and, they will be sorry for it when I die.
I have a good notion to poison myself by eating some of your glucose
sugar."
"Yes, and you do about everything that is mean. The other day a lady came
in and told me to send up to her house, some of my country sausage, done
up in muslin bags, and while she was examining it she noticed something
hard inside the bags, and asked me what it was, and I opened it, and I
hope to die if there wasn't a little brass padlock and a piece of red
morocco dog collar imbedded in the sausage. Now how do you suppose that
got in there?" and the grocery man looked savage.
The boy looked interested, and put on an expression as though in deep
thought, and finally said, "I suppose the farmer that put up the sausage
did not strain the dog meat. Sausage meat ought to be strained."
The grocery man pulled in about half a block of twine, after the
dog had run against a fence and broke it, and told the boy he knew
perfectly well how the brass padlock came to be in the sausage, but
thinking it was safer to have the good will of the boy than the ill will,
he offered him a handful of prunes.
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